


Of Youth and Change

by KrisseyCrystal (IceCreAMS)



Series: Of Bridges and Shores (Zestiria - AtlA AU) [1]
Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, Avatar Sorey, Bending (Avatar), Fire Sage Zenrus, Firebending & Firebenders, Gen, Mikleo's mentioned, Southern Water Tribe, Waterbending & Waterbenders, kid Sorey, they are so so far from home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22850245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceCreAMS/pseuds/KrisseyCrystal
Summary: To Zenrus, it is the kindness of a stranger that saves their lives in those early days.Or: after their flight from the Fire Nation, Sorey and Zenrus have trouble adjusting to their new antarctic home.
Series: Of Bridges and Shores (Zestiria - AtlA AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1407244
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50





	Of Youth and Change

The wind is harsh and cold. 

The antarctic chill bites at Zenrus’ skin through his heavy cloak. With a grim set to his mouth, the man is forced to acknowledge that nothing he prepared for their long journey is going to prove warm enough to protect them from this weather. Even his chi can only give them so much heat.

If by some miracle, they managed to succeed and find the Southern Water Tribe, then he would have to see if he could negotiate for furred coats.

From the blanketed bundle in his arms, there is a quiet sniff. “Z-Zen…? I’m…c-c-cold.”

Zenrus pauses. His arms tighten around the boy pressed to his chest. He steels his breath and lifts the blanket’s edge to blow on the boy’s face. A warm cloud swirls, pressing against round, frost-bitten cheeks. 

“I know, Sorey,” he says softly. He hopes the young one can hear him over the whistling gale. “We are almost there. Just hang on, my boy.”

Sorey shivers. Zenrus takes another breath. He readjusts his hold, tucking the blanket over the child’s face again, and pushes forward.

When Zenrus had first taken the pledge to dedicate his life as a Sage, he was fully ready to also undertake the expectations that came with such a vow. He had known full well there were to be no married Sages. No Sage was ever permitted to have children, either. But as he holds this little one in his arms now, it occurs to him that this has also woefully unprepared him for another endeavor: child-rearing.

It is too late for such concerns.

They no longer have the luxury of “if’s.”

* * *

He tells the Southern Water Tribe that he is Sorey’s grandfather and they believe him (as does Sorey, who is too young to remember better and looks at him with eyes too wide to disbelieve this groundbreaking information). The waterbenders do not like him; they do not like the both of them _._ The blue-coated people, native to the ice and cold, take one look at Zenrus and Sorey’s red clothes and sun-tanned skin and their eyes narrow in warranted distrust.

Zenrus does not ask for their trust. He asks only for their kindness.

When he tells them they are refugees, the Southern Water Tribe reluctantly gives him a tent and a proposed spot to live outside of the village walls. It is more than Zenrus had thought they would get and he agrees. He thanks them profusely. He teaches Sorey to bow.

As Sorey steps forward and kneels on the ice in his thin Fire Nation attire to stretch out his hands before himself, Zenrus is reminded that he’s a fool. 

He does not need to teach this boy things he already knows.

* * *

Sorey doesn’t eat after he tries seaweed noodles the one time. His face scrunches up and he shakes his head and coughs it back out. Zenrus tries to convince the boy to eat more, to give the noodles another chance, but Sorey shakes his head and closes his mouth tight. Big tears form in his wide green eyes. It’s not the same, he cries.

Blubbered seal jerky has the same effect.

Zenrus goes through several other dishes with no change until Sorey stops eating altogether.

* * *

It is the kindness of a stranger that saves their lives in those early days. 

Zenrus and Sorey are only allowed within the walls of the Southern Water Tribe when the traders have returned from their mainland sail. He warns Sorey not to complain about this, but Sorey has little he wants to say anyway. His small hand lies limp in Zenrus’ as they walk along wooden tables piled high with fish from today’s catch. His green eyes wander over the various vegetables and furnished goods from the mainland that they have no means to grow or make here. Nothing sparks the boy’s interest.

“I’m tired, Gramps,” Sorey murmurs instead. His head is warm, pressing into Zenrus’ hip. 

Zenrus slips his hand from Sorey’s and wraps it around his shoulders. 

He does not know the woman when she stops him, taking his arm and spinning him around to face her. All he knows is she has smooth, chestnut hair and pretty eyes the color of wine. 

“You’re the Firebenders on the outskirts of the village, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” Zenrus answers. 

The woman smiles and bends close to Sorey’s face. “And this little one is your grandson? He looks nearly the same age as my own boy.”

Hope is a strange, fickle thing as it flickers to life inside Zenrus’ chest. If Sorey could have just _one good thing_ … 

“Is he?” Zenrus casts a glance to either side of her. “Is he with you?”

The woman straightens and waves a hand, smiling. “Oh, no. He’s training with the other benders at the moment. He wants so very badly to be as good of a waterbender as his father was.” 

Zenrus’ chest pangs. _Was._ He does her the courtesy of looking away. “I am sorry for your loss.”

He does not pretend to not know how he must have died.

The woman’s smile saddens. Softens. After a moment, she holds out her hand. “My name is Muse. And you two are…?”

* * *

They have a lot to talk about. 

It is surprising to Zenrus, as much as it is humbling. Saddening. Muse is a compassionate young woman, despite all she has endured. Losing her husband to the endless wars with the Fire Nation while still pregnant with their son, then discovering her son could waterbend and deciding to leave behind her home in the Earth Kingdom to travel south and find the Southern Water Tribe so he could learn among his heritage and people. 

Zenrus respects her far more than she knows.

“It was difficult,” Muse explains, “those first few months. For both Mikleo and I. There was a new culture, new hours, a new environment, new _weather_ , new food, new people, new everything.”

One of Sorey’s feather earrings chin brushes against Zenrus’ jaw. He hikes the boy up against his hip when he can feel his body sag. Muse’s gaze softens as she looks at the steady rise and fall of the boy’s breath.

“He’s really asleep?”

Zenrus nods. “He isn’t taking well to this change, I’m afraid.”

“Neither did Mikleo. I had to find something that reminded us of home before he started coming around.” Muse snaps her fingers. “I think I have just the thing! Wait here a moment, won’t you?”

When she hurries back, there’s a parchment-wrapped bundle of small, dark fruit clutched in her hands. 

* * *

A small shuffle of fabric is all that precedes Sorey’s quiet sniff of, “Something smells good.”

Zenrus smiles. He glances over his shoulder to see the boy rub his fist against his eye. He slips his pipe out of his mouth. “Does it?”

Sorey nods. He crawls out of his sleeping roll to Zenrus’ side and curls against the man’s broad body. His small gloved hands shove up under his arms. “What are you making?”

“Something new,” Gramps murmurs. He stirs the stewing sea prunes once more. “Hopefully, something good.”

* * *

“Kum-quats! Kum-quats!”

Zenrus chuckles, stirring the boiling blend of water, salt, seaweed, and antarctic sea fruit. He hears more than sees the young boy bouncing around him with eager, bunched fists. Sorey has been chanting for the past few minutes once he heard what dinner was going to be. 

“It’s _sea prunes_ , my boy,” he corrects with a puff of pipe smoke. “Not ocean kumquats.”

“Sea prunes! Sea! Prunes! Sea! Prunes!” 

Sorey marches with each syllable.

He jumps to Zenrus’ side, grinning wide. His fists stick out at his sides. “Prune-quats!”

Zenrus shakes his head. Despite himself, laughter rumbles through his chest. It is warm and deep. “Close enough.”

“Prune-quats!” 

It is the gusto with which Sorey tears into his meal that tells Zenrus that the worst of their transition pains are over.

**Author's Note:**

> I may have self-projected a bit. Change is good, even if it's hard sometimes. 
> 
> Also, this was completely inspired by the fact that apparently, in the AtlA canon, sea prunes and ocean kumquats have a similar taste if you prepare 'em correctly. There's something about the "familiarity of a more stable time" that's encouraging. I think Sorey would subconsciously latch on to whatever's familiar, especially when surrounded by so many things that are so, so new and uncomfortable.
> 
> Next AtlA AU oneshot will be up March 7!


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